Tales of the Younger Gods
by vylrael
Summary: A small collection of stories about some of the gods that made it to Gielinor.
1. Chapter 1: Saradomin

Humanity had been abandoned. Long ago, one of their own came across an artefact that radiated with some force not meant for mortals. While he considered himself wise, he showed foolishness that day when he lifted the golden crown and placed it on his own head. He returned to his people a changed man. The power at his control just from wearing the thing gave him abilities that could not be rivaled even by the most powerful knights and mages. It was not long before he subdued all opposition to his rule. Still, Saradomin had tried to present himself as a just and loving king. He had not yet claimed godhood. His arrogance had yet to reach that level. Regardless, he did not take kindly to those who openly defied him.

As he grew more powerful, Saradomin gained more and more abilities. He was able to change his body to an extent. With no one else on his world able to even begin to match him, he began to have his lieutenants refer to him as a god and punish those who would not accept his divinity. To match his claims, he took advantage of his new power and saw to it that his appearance was similar to but still distinct from the others. The most notable changes were his blue skin and those glowing eyes. His hair was kept a pure white, making him look like the wise elders who were valued in human society. Rather than the elaborate clothing that mortal monarchs wore, he dressed himself in ornate robes like those of the mages of his race, intending to use it as a reminder of his mastery over any magic that he pleased. Still, being the god of only one planet quickly ceased to be enough.

It was the middle of a sunny day in Spring when he went out onto the highest balcony of the grand citadel that he called home. The crowd cheered at the sight of their god, some sincerely and some from fear of what would happen if they did not. He announced to them all that he had looked across the cosmos and was distraught at the disorder that existed. He said that he had neglected the other worlds for far too long and wished for the strongest of his people to join him in leaving behind their home for a time so that they may spread order and wisdom to all who needed it. The response was not quite what he expected. The assembled group seemed to be split just about down the middle. Those who loved him were all crying out to be allowed to join. As for those who feared him, they found the idea of having to serve in an army that he directly commanded to be even more terrifying and remained silent. Rage welled up inside the god, but he managed to quell it. It would dishearten those who would willingly follow him if he struck down the nonbelievers so quickly. Their punishment would come later.

Not a full month passed before Saradomin's army was assembled. He had already chosen a few worlds to visit. A handful were nearby, others were far away, but his crown drew him toward them for some reason. With all the power the artefact had given him, he considered it unwise to ignore it. Of particular interest to him was a planet inhabited by large humans with glorious wings. There was another that contained somewhat furry, vaguely human beings that he thought might make a novel addition to his growing religion.

Years upon years passed. Saradomin still returned home, though it started to become less common. Sometimes he would only send an emissary to demand more troops. In one case, he had come back with those flying creatures that he described seeing to some of his men. They had replaced most of his commanders by that time, and even many of his soldiers. After all, they had much more strength than mere humans and were loyal to a fault. In another instance, one in which the masses heard of his return, but only his most trusted lieutenants actually saw him, he had been badly injured by a fight with some other entity The wound looked like it had been made by a beast, specifically one with tusks or horns, but none were willing to question what had happened and risk their god's anger.

Eventually, the humans started to move away from his ideas about what perfect order was like. Saradomin had not come back to the world in so long that the regional leaders began fighting amongst themselves, effectively splitting the empire into different states. As the years went by, faith in the God of Order and Wisdom faded until even his existence was called into question. Some theorized that he had merely been a superstition utilized by rulers in order to legitimize their claims. Now barely anyone even remembered the stories at all. For centuries, they lived like they had before Saradomin's ascension, until another event occurred. In one part of the world, a gateway opened up and a figure cloaked in green stepped through with promises of a world that many simply couldn't resist.


	2. Chapter 2: Armadyl

Was he really so foolish? He knew that the other gods mocked him, even as they fought over a staff that bore his name. They claimed that he was weak, if not in pure strength, in will. Perhaps they were right. He believed that gods and mortals could live together in peace. There was no question that he and his kind were more powerful than mortals, no sane person could doubt that, but Armadyl thought that was no reason to lord over them like tyrants. He only wished to guide their actions and aid them. He remembered Abbinah and his Aviansie's lives there. When he ascended to godhood, he was able to help them so much and ease the suffering that their world forced them to go through. Why did the other gods insist on being the source of turmoil for their own people when they could be making life better for them?

As Armadyl walked through a long abandoned world, he continued to think about the events of that horrible war in Gielinor. A part of him wished to return, but maybe Guthix was right in banning them all from his realm. Well, almost all. The demigods of the desert were allowed to stay, though the two major gods of that pantheon were banished. Strangely, a certain vegetable was permitted to remain as well, but he wasn't much of a threat to anyone anyway. The other gods were the ones that worried Armadyl. Zamorak had earned his hatred through a single action. At first, the avian god was actually somewhat pleased with the ascended Mahjarrat. The Empty Lord was a terrible monster and his defeat was something that all gods celebrated. However, Zamorak soon showed his true colours when he wiped out the remains of Forinthry and the Aviansie with it. Saradomin was no better. Armadyl did not feel the same for the God of Order as he did for the God of Chaos, but it was only different because of his personal connection to the Aviansie. The former human had just as much blood on his hands with the near extinction of the Centaurs.

Looking up at the world's moon, Armadyl turned his thoughts toward another deity. Seren, the Goddess of the Elves, had ideas of her own. In some ways, they were not all that different. She too wished for peace and had a special attachment to her own people. They differed in that Seren often seemed to only concern herself with the elves and a small number of other creatures associated with her. She did seem to favour Guthix's followers as well from time to time, something which only fueled the rumours about what their relationship had been in the past. He understood that connection, but Armadyl disagreed with her disregard for the other races. All of them needed to live well and in peace, not just those who happened to find favour with a god. There was no justice to be found in that sort of discrimination.

Discrimination. Tearing his eyes away from the glowing disk in the sky, Armadyl realized that he had been unjust as well. The Aviansie were not his only followers and he was standing there, not certain if he wished to return to Gielinor, where many races had died defending his ideals. He was so caught up in the fate of the species he originated from that he was acting no better than Seren. There was no longer any question in his mind. He needed to find a way back. He could not abandon those who believed in him. Would he continue to mourn? Of course. For now, however, he needed to settle down somewhere and wait for his chance to slip back into the world. Abbinah would do. It was not dangerous to him with the power he now possessed, and even if his people were now dead he could take some comfort in being home once again.


	3. Chapter 3: Guthix

What had those gods done to his world? An entire continent had been left in pieces. The races were at each other's throats over religion. He lost Seren, the goddess having chosen to shatter herself rather than leave Gielinor as he had asked. Was this simply the fate of the multiverse? Were all of the worlds meant to be torn apart by power-hungry psychopaths? No. Guthix knew that wasn't the case. In a way, the event here were partially his fault.

When the Naragi-turned-god arrived in Gielinor, he had already collected quite a number of the artefacts that created gods. Without them, the number of deities would stay about the same, as the only other way to ascend was by killing a current god. It did mean that he had grown more powerful as well, of course, but he had no intention of using that to the detriment of mortals. To the contrary, he used them to bring different races into the world and give them the power to form their own societies without the need for gods, though he did make an exception for the elves and their goddess. Perhaps it was his good intentions that caused this whole mess. If he had only been able to get his hands on the Crown Archival it would have been different. It would have allowed him to find all of the other Elder Artefacts and lock them away so that the other gods could not find them. He had chosen not to do so, as he did not want to be just another warmonger, and he would have no choice but to fight the blue giant for it. As he sat in a cave beneath the world he wondered if he had done the right thing in not killing Saradomin.

Guthix buried his face in his hands, though he continued to try fighting off the tears. What was he thinking? If he had hunted down Saradomin, he would have needed to slaughter all of the followers that would surely defend him. While the God of Balance knew he was sufficiently powerful to win such a battle, to do so would have been to spit in the face of all that he believed. For now, his Edicts would keep them out.

The damage that had been done was permanent, so he was not able to remove every deity. Gielinor's afterlife was now infested with dark creatures . While Death was able to defend spirits to some extent, Tumeken's son had devoted himself to guiding those poor souls to their final resting place. Guthix did not feel right punishing the young demigod who was providing such a service to the world, so he chose to allow the lesser members of the Menaphite Pantheon to remain. As for the others, they were too dangerous to be allowed to stay in the world. He lamented having had to turn against Seren, but she had participated in the wars and was too powerful for him to risk Gielinor for her sake. Still, the emotions he felt were tearing him apart. They had entered because he allowed them to find his world while he slept. They changed it so much that even the Grim Underworld was no longer safe. Now he had been forced to betray his friend because of what those evil gods had done.

He could no longer hold it back. The thought of Seren being reduced to shards of crystal made him feel such guilt. The fact that she joined with the Anima Mundi provided little comfort. The image of the blue giant that ruined his world was burned into his mind, and the pain was only intensified from the sight of that same god leading armies to their deaths on the world he only wanted to protect. To top it off, all those thousands of years he spent sleeping were undone in that moment. He wanted the mortals to forget his existence. He wanted them to never worship him again. Unfortunately, he had been forced to reveal himself when he put his Edicts into place, and a following had already formed. What could he possibly do now?

As he let out his tears, the sound of water dripping onto the stone floor echoed through the small chamber. He looked up, noticing that the walls themselves were crying with him. For a brief moment, a smile came to Guthix's face. The world had been injured, but it was still alive. The smile faded when he realized that the tears contained power as well. It was not even close to the level of the Elder Artefacts, but it was still something that could be abused. It was by a stroke of luck or perhaps fate that the crying god had attracted the attention of another being within the caves.

Juna, a serpent who followed the God of Balance, moved slowly into the chamber. She was loyal to him in a way that he did not want. She was not the only one. They had accompanied him while he set out to mend some of the more severe problems that the other gods caused. Of them, Ocellus seemed to be the only one that understood that he did not want to be worshipped, but something about him left Guthix uneasy. Either way, he realized that they now had an important purpose. Death had already been guarding the Grim Underworld, but there was more that needed to be done. These tears needed to be protected for one. An old resting place of the Stone of Jas was going to need to be guarded as well, since it had absorbed some of the object's power. He did not want followers, but if he wanted to prevent another catastrophe like this one, something had to be done. The Guardians of Guthix needed to be founded.


End file.
